Sunshine
by An ink blot
Summary: Bram smiles, and Simon feels the looming storm clouds of being outed begin to shift. The rain has come; maybe the clouds are ready to let in some sunshine. Oneshot, updated.


Simon feels his breath hitch as he slips out into the parking lot. The debacle in the cafeteria burns in his brain. He needs to be somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

"Simon!"

He walks a little faster.

"Hey, Simon!"

Martin catches up and Simon turns to face him with lips pursed and hands buried in his pockets.

"Hey, man," Martin huffs, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Hot, angry tears prick the back of his eyes. Simon turns and walks pointedly towards his car.

"I wouldn't - I mean, I didn't think people still did stupid shit like that anymore," Martin just doesn't quit. Simon slows until he is left standing squarely in the middle of the road. He's only a few yards from his car; so close to ditching Martin and his pointless attempts at making amends.

"If I knew, I wouldn't - I'm sorry. I didn't think they'd react that way."

All the pressure, the guilt, the grief, suddenly hits Simon in a wave of rage that has him seeing red. He rounds on Martin, face flushed, "You didn't know?! You really think that's an excuse?"

Martin stammers.

"This isn't about them, Martin, don't you get it? This is about me! You might not have thought this was a big deal but that wasn't your choice to make. It was supposed to be mine - this was supposed to be _my_ thing. I get to decide who knows, and when they know, and where and how I say it!"

Simon practically screams. His throat was already raw from sobbing the night before, but he needs this.

"You take your apologies, because I don't want them. You made your choice and took mine away from me, so kindly stay the _fuck_ away from me."

Simon staggers back a step, then turns on his heel and makes it the rest of the way to his car. Martin stands, for once speechless, in the road behind him. Simon stares at his retreating back in the rearview mirror for who knows how long.

His fist flies almost of its own accord. His hand hits the wheel. The impact vibrates through his palm. Simon smacks the wheel, again and again, until his cheeks are painted with tears. Alone once again, Simon ducks his head and just _breathes_.

There's a tap at the window. Simon swipes viciously at his eyes and glances up from under his eyelashes.

Cute Bram Greenfeld. He's hunched over and frowning.

After his conversation with Martin, Simon can't say he's in the mood to see anyone. Even Bram. Especially Bram.

It suddenly hits Simon how tired he is of being alone.

The doors unlock with a click. Simon wordlessly pats the passenger seat. Bram slips around the front and gets in next to him.

They sat in silence for a minute. Then Bram looks over, "I'm sorry."

Simon sniffs, "What do you have to be sorry for?"

Bram laughs in a way that was more of a sigh, "More than you know."

"You didn't out me."

"No."

"You didn't get up on the table during lunch today."

Bram flinches, "No."

"Then what do you have to feel sorry for?"

Bram ducks his head, "Abandoning you."

Simon looks over at him questioningly. Bram wrings his hands together, then meets his gaze. Both boys look away.

"I shouldn't have done it."

"Done what?"

"Deleted my email."

Simon feels his heart skip a beat. His mind wanders back to an Oreo loving pen pal. The jokes, the confessions, the _love, Blue_ at the end of every message. The final reply (which he'd read over and over and over until he'd memorized every word), telling him goodbye.

"You."

Simon exhales.

"You're Blue."

Bram looks up at him with a gaze that is both hopeful and nervous, "I'm Blue."

Simon looks away, stunned and awed.

"I know I shouldn't have left you like that. I was just so scared that whoever outed you would come after me as well. I regretted it almost as soon as I did it, and I knew the only way to maybe save what we had was to talk to you in person."

Bram shifts to face him, "I heard what you told Martin, and I know an apology won't make things better, but - "

"It's you," Simon says softly.

A soft warmth begins to pulse within the numbness of his chest. Relief floods his brain, sent his heart pounding. Simon laughes a breathy, giddy laugh. He looks over at Bram, at Blue, the boy he's fallen for with every word and phrase.

For a moment, he looks confused and a little concerned. Then his features melt with relief, and Simon realizes that Bram has been just as scared of losing Jacques as he'd been of losing Blue.

"You're not disappointed?"

"How could I be?"

Bram smiles, and Simon feels the looming storm clouds of being outed begin to shift. The rain has come; maybe the clouds are ready to let in some sunshine.

Hesitantly, Simon reaches out and threads their fingers together. Bram looks down at their joined hands, then back up at Simon.

That first kiss is soft and feather light, barely a brushing of lips, but Simon can swear he feels sparks. Then, just like that, it's over.

The air is still.

Bram tugs gently on his and Simon's joined hands. Simon tips forward and presses another, firmer kiss to Bram's mouth.

Bram untangles their fingers to run his hand up Simon's arm and clutch his elbow. Simon's knuckles skim Bram's jacket and drift up to cradle his jaw. Bram's free hand softly rests on his.

They pull back, barely a breath apart, and just breathe. Bram huffs a laugh and the corner of Simon's mouth tilts upward into a smile.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Bram admits.

Simon nods breathlessly, "Me too."

Bram leans forward to rest his head against Simon's. He sighs a long, burdened sigh, then blinks back up at Simon, "I'll come out."

"What?"

"I'll come out." Bram says, more determinedly, "If it means being with you, I'll do it."

Simon shakes his head, "No, if you want us to be together, no one has to know. It can be like before - back when no one knew."

"No, Simon."

"Yes, if you aren't ready, then - "

"But I think I am ready."

Simon stares at him, mind racing back to lunch and the bullying.

"I said it before, Simon. You inspire me. And even though you didn't choose to come out, the way you've dealt with it makes me feel like," Bram shrugs, "I don't know...maybe I can too."

"Bram," Simon is cut off as students begin to stream out of the building. Most are too preoccupied to notice them, but he still shrinks in his seat.

"Hey," Bram sends Simon a dorky smile, "Looks like I missed all of English."

"Is it really that late?" Simon makes a show of pulling out his phone to check the time. "Holy shit, school's over."

"Well, I think you have a pretty good excuse for losing track of time."

"Sorry I made you miss Lit."

"It's fine. One day without my perfect grammar won't kill Mr. Wise."

Both boys share a laugh.

"Um, Simon?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind giving me a ride home? I kinda faked being sick to come out and talk to you, and Garret's gonna be at practice."

"Of course." Simon releases the parking break and puts the car in reverse, then pauses, "Wait, won't your mom be suspicious that you aren't at practice?"

Bram purses his lips, "I actually didn't think about that."

"If you want," Simon says cautiously, "We could always head up to my house."

"Are you sure? You don't need space after..."

"Actually, I think I'd like the company. We need to talk anyway."

"I'll take you up on that offer then."

Simon smiles.


End file.
